American Gods Recap: Lemon Scented You

American Gods Recap: Lemon Scented You

The opening story is another from Mr. Ibis’ history book. It’s a tale of a forgotten mammoth god who led people across the land bridge from Siberia to the now North American continent. It’s a lesson in how gods fall into obscurity.

“…about par for the fucking course…”

The return to the present brings us to Laura waiting for Shadow in his motel room. He is…not as surprised and pleased as she’d hoped? Sure, he’s freaked out, but at this point, it’s all par for the course. He only misses a bit of a beat, recovers, and isn’t really sure he wants anything to do with her. She did, after all, die cheating on him with his best friend.

They have a lot to talk about.

Laura takes a bath so she doesn’t feel as corpse like to Shadow (you know, just in case. Oh, ew). One problem? She is a corpse. He’s definitely not forgotten that. However, they kiss…and Laura’s heart beats. Just once.

(Side note? Beautiful make up. They have Laura’s Y-incision and everything.)

“There is a big storm rolling across the country right now and nothing feels ok.”

A raven seems to tip Mr. Wednesday off that something’s happening, so he quickly draws Shadow away with the excuse of a drink. (We also see what the two of them look like in Lauravision, shining and gold.)

As they are about to leave, they’re picked up by the cops. It’s for their little bank caper.

Meanwhile, we see Technical Boy exit a club. All the parking lot lights turn off, and one of those horrid helmets is waiting for him.

He ends up in his own limo, talking to Media (who looks like David Bowie).

“You have an image problem.”

Media tells Technical Boy he’s going to have to apologize to Wednesday and Shadow. They talk about Wednesday’s recruitment drive, and that how as far as believers go–he’s a threat because he only needs just enough–maybe just one.

Gee, I wonder who that is…

The police keep trying to interrogate Shadow and Wednesday, but neither are budging. The cops know something is up, since the intel was dropped into their laps via a fax machine that wasn’t even plugged in.

“Gimme my fucking coin, dead wife.”

Back at the motel, Mad Sweeney has caught up with Laura. He wants the coin back, naturally. However, it’s what’s keeping Laura mobile (it’s inside her chest).

They spend awhile with her asking questions and beating the crap out of Sweeney, and she starts to get a better picture of what’s going on. He lets on that all he really needs to do is follow her, because she’s eventually going to rot–in which case, he’ll be able to retrieve the coin easily.

As he tries to drown her in the tub, another set of cops arrive (the other motel patrons have called for the noise). She plays dead, and they take him away.

“This one’s told in glorious technicolor.”

The cops back at the station leave Wednesday and Shadow in the same room to talk it out, and Shadow confronts Wednesday about the evidence that they had—its obvious someone big is after them. He still hasn’t caught on to who Wednesday is.

Noise of carnage filters back to the interview room, and they realize that someone big has found them.

“A truce implies that we were ever at war.”

He makes Technical Boy apologize, then they present their proposal–they want Wednesday on their side. They offer to rebrand him by launching a Korean guidance satellite called Odin to reframe him as something modern.

Of course, Wednesday isn’t buying. He says that all the new gods do is occupy humans’ time. He gave them meaning.

World decides to give Wednesday time to consider.

“It’s still happening.”

Wednesday and Shadow exit the police station, and it’s chaos. Dead cops, blinking lights, and a desk that comes to life and grabs at Shadow. Outside, Sweeney is left alone in the police car as the officers exit and enter the building. He smashes out the car window and escapes.

JL Jamieson is a strange book nerd who writes technical documents by day, and book news, reviews, and other assorted opinions for you by night. She is working on her own fiction, and spends time making jewelry to sell at local conventions, as well as stalking the social media accounts of all your favorite writers.

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